The Hellbound Hearts
by LJ1983
Summary: A fifteen shot story of lust, love and seduction, with the focus entirely on fifteen HR couples for each chapter...For my very good friend Izzy for her birthday. XD


**The Hellbound Hearts**

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**Notes - **This is just a small idea I came up with just recently. It popped into my head one night as I was trying to sleep. Fifteen HR couples, fifteen drabble stories. Seems straight forward. I figured I'd do it. :) _Hellraiser_, as some of you may know, is not just a Gothic horror movie with blood and guts galore; it's a romance too. I guess you could call it a rom-hor. That's what Clive Barker once said. With the first film focusing on Julia's love of Frank and that was what drove her to murder. In this drabble fic, I will of course be writing a small story for Frank and Julia, even though they're not my fave couple - they are canon, but I will also be writing for nine other couples. Some canon and some not. Pinhead/Kirsty will also be here, as if I'd miss those two out. But for now, my lips are sealed. You'll have to see. For now I hope you enjoy. Disclaimers; I own nothing of HR or its characters. Warnings; this fic is rated T for some mild sexual scenes, lust, violence and language. But really, this fic is very much a harmless read. Thanks for reading, hope you all like! ~ Laura

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_**This also is my second birthday present to my special friend, Izzy. Since I am still working on her main birthday present, which is a lot harder than I thought, I figured I'd write her a second story and one of the HR pairings she invented is a part of this story too so that should make her happy. :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY IZZY! Hope you love this! We'll be starting off with one of your fave HR couples. Just for you. ;) I hope I get them right. :D**_

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1: Pistonhead & Dreamer

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_**~ "You didn't fuck it up with me! And you know that, and you know how sorry I am. I hate to see you upset like this. I hate to see you in pain like this." ~ **_**JP to Terri, Hell On Earth**

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He greedily stalks the halls of the Labyrinth like an over-sexed leather clad tomcat, attempting to seek out his willing next conquest for a thrilling so desired fix of sex, while she lumbers and storms around torture chambers in frustration at his single minded selfishness for gratification.

Doomed from the moment of rebirth into Cenobites to be consorts without a choice in the matter as they'd been on-off lovers in their human lives, JP Munroe and Terri Marshall - now crudely know as Pistonhead and Dreamer - were hardly the model Cenobites that either Xipe Totec or Leviathan would approve of. Both were very much still in touch with whatever fragments of humanity still lay within them.

Pistonhead was as arrogant and obnoxious as he had been before this life; still cocky, grasping and lacking in respect for women. Still addicted to the thrills and joys sexual intercourse had brought to him when alive. Still given to the belief that he was God's - or now in this instance, Leviathan's - gift to women. But unlike when he had been human, filthy rich and owner of a low class joint known as_ 'The Boiler Room' _night club Pistonhead often failed to realize that he had no such power within the Labyrinth to do as he did back then. He could never pay or lure a willing female into his bed. Every attempt to do so resulted in something far lethal or near enough.

He tried Nikoletta, the Female Cenobite and High Priestess of Hell; the result? A near flaying with a curled tipped razor.

He then tried Angelique, the one time Princess; the result? A row of narrow surface wounds to the face from a vicious scratch courtesy of the Princess.

It was frustrating. Nearly every attempt at luring a female Cenobite ended in failure. He was so darn frustrated that the pistons revolving around through his head maddened, forcing his head to twitch more violently.

Yet in his desperations he also sometimes failed to notice _her_...

.._Terri..._

_..._now known as Dreamer.

He had never claimed to love her. Heck he never loved_ anyone _when alive. Women were merely fuck toys to him; women were simple objects to amuse himself with. The minute he had finished fucking them, he threw them out like they were old trash, and then moved on to the next eager and willing but beautiful mug. Yet when it came to Terri, sweet doe-eyed all alone Terri, he could never really keep away. He could never truly throw her away like yesterday's trash. Something had always compelled him to be drawn to her, like a moth to a flame - like a junkie with their fix.

She was special, she was his main prize, she was his crown jewel; but of course he did not love her.

Or...did he?

He had never known love, so why the hell should he feel it?

If he had loved her and they had been a true couple, why did he constantly cheat on her with other women?

Hell he didn't know. It was all so messed up.

All he knew was that he needed her...he needed his fix. He needed his jewel.

Sneaking up behind her, Pistonhead's approach would have been a quiet one had it not been for the mechanical whirling from the piston viciously rammed into his cranium. Dreamer had been occupied in drawing energy from the dreams of the damned, but even the grating noises from her lover's mechanism was enough to draw her back out. She took a long drag from the never shrinking ubiquitous cigarette lodged in her throat and frowned unhappily at him before lifting her skinned, muscle exposed hand in a flash to strike him hard across the cheek.

He could have swore the piston's motion had missed a beat in her strike.

In following her assault, the language which came tumbling forth from his mouth was colourful and unrelenting. Dreamer was far too mad to give a damn, yet this was what turned them on.

This was foreplay for them.

"Hey baby, it's fuck time!" The pistonheaded demon then grinned after a long silence like nothing ever happened, leering has his hands grasped her leather covered breasts. "Strip for me now!"

Like the sucker as she had been in life - she had had a major dependancy on him in the time she was human - her piqued facial features gradually softened and became less creased. She eventually obliged with his insistence, peeling her leather robe off in record speed. When she was naked, her pale flesh glowing and soft under the light of Leviathan, she pointed a finger in his muscled leather bound chest. "Now you." She breathed, smirking.

Like as though he was a snake shedding its old skin, Pistonhead tore off the leather which donned his still toned and muscled - but grey all over - body. Already he was willing. In a bruising and crushing hold, he grabbed her arms, pushing her to the stone floor and pinning her down. His larger frame made it impossible for her to move, but her body - now slick and wet with sweat, approved and she sighed in pleasure.

His mouth crushed hers in a possessive kiss, and without a word or warning began a mad coupling in the middle of the Labyrinth.

Both were completely careless and inconsiderate to where they were.

When they were finished, Pistonhead pulled away and immediately the two were arguing over something trivial or other. _Again!_

Yet this is who they are.

Utterly dysfunctional...and a lot less disciplined as their elder counterparts.

And they wouldn't have it any other way...

~ The End ~


End file.
